


Walking Through Fire

by akouos



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akouos/pseuds/akouos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny is afraid of heights. She doesn't seem to be afraid of anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Through Fire

He found her sitting outside the top floor of the Lucky 38, bare feet dangling off the edge of the walkway. Her dark brown hair had been curled intricately into ringlets to hide the large scar. Now, it was blowing loosely on the wind. Her heels sat next to her as she straddled the metal railing between her legs, her dress bunching up in between her thighs.

She looked up, cigarette hanging from her lips.

“Oh,” she grunted when she saw him and turned back to the view. The neon lights of New Vegas spun and flashed and flickered below, lighting the blue-dark Mojave that stretched for miles. The wind was merciful tonight, only the hint of a warm breeze.

“People are starting to wonder, doll.”

She responded with a dismissive wave of her hand and took a drag of her cigarette.

“What? Don’t like parties?”

Benny hovered in the doorway, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Not really,” she shrugged. It sure wasn’t out of manners when she held out the box and offered him a cigarette. He had come to learn she had a special kind of tact that made her very good for liberating a city but not for running it. Her absence at the party downstairs in her casino was proof of anything.

Instead, she had decided to come up here and perch at the top of her throne.

That had it’s appeal but not when the perch was a hundred some feet high.

“You’re makin’ me nervous. Come inside at least.”

She looked at him with that little amused smile that set him on edge and flicked the ashes off her cigarette, the wind sweeping the embers away.

“Don’t like heights?”

“Geckos prefer the solid ground.”

When she made a move to get up he let out a sigh of relief, stepping to the side of the doorway to let her inside. Instead of shuffling inside, she pressed her hands and stomach against the rail and leaned her head out into the wind.

“Jesus, get in here! Enough fooling around.”

She was just fucking with him but leaning against a two-hundred some year old rusted rail made his vision blurry and his heart pound in his chest. She wasn’t about to survive two gunshots to the head, the Legion and every other thing the Mojave had tossed at her to fall to her death in front of all the drunks down on the Strip.

She raised her leg and straddled the railing, meeting his eyes. Was she high? He could never have known with how dark her eyes were, especially at night but this was not the behavior of a normal person.

“The fuck-? I ain’t playing this game with you. Get inside,” He told her, breath hitching as she pulled her other leg over the side, fingers tight around the metal bar so she was hanging off the side of the 38.

She wrapped her arms tight, letting it rest under her arms and smiled at him like she was a kid playing on an abandoned, rusted playground not a grown woman hanging hundreds of feet off the ground. The building creaked and groaned, shifting with the wind.

He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door, legs locked into place but he watched while her foot slipped on the metal edge.

He fisted his hand on the back of her dress, grabbing the railing for dear life as he caught her.

She gasped, fumbling as her body threatened to cooperate with gravity and take her to the ground. He could feel his eyes stinging from the wind, stronger and rougher outside of the building. His arm shuddered, struggling to keep her up.

Her foot struggled to get back onto the platform but she managed, face inches away from his as he held her up, hair fluttering on the wind. Her eyes were widened, sharp and fearful. He had never her seen her look like this, even with his gun in her face. He could feel her breath against his skin.

His entire body felt numb and he swayed, keeping his eyes on her face as he yanked her back onto the balcony. They fell back onto the cool metal together, panting, hearts pounding. He hadn’t known he could still move so fast.

Good to know he wasn’t getting fat on all those sugar bombs and whiskey.

“You crazy-”

He was breathing too hard to finish his sentence but he just shook his head. He’d said it a million times before. She’d get the picture.

They laid like that for what seemed like days, staring up at the Mojave sky. His lungs hurt from sucking in the cold air. He sat up when he was confident with his movement and more aware of the building still creaking and shifting with the wind.

Benny righted his suit, brushed off the dust, and gave her a hand up before fleeing into the safety of the penthouse suite.

He didn’t sleep that night thinking of the fear in her eyes and the howling wind and her face so close to his.


End file.
